The 'Tie' that Binds
by justdreaming-83
Summary: An expanded version of the story done for the fanblog contest on how G Callen got the scar on his chin. I decided to divide it into chapters so that I could develop the story a little and include more Hurt/Comfort "stuff." Sam and Callen find themselves in a bad situation after the team rushes in to stop a weapons' deal. Some G whumpage and caring Sam for the H/C lover in me.
1. Chapter 1

The 'Tie' that Binds – Chapter 1

"G. How many of those things are you gonna eat?" Sam asked his partner who was leaned back in the passenger's seat of the _Challenger_.

Callen shrugged and pulled the _Tootsie Pop_ out of his mouth with an exaggerated smack. "I don't know. How many you got?"

Sam snorted and shook his head in disbelief, watching Callen flip open the glove compartment and begin taking inventory of the candy stash.

"What?" Callen responded defensively. "We've been sitting in this car for almost four hours. I'm hungry."

"That's what you get for having only sugared up coffee for breakfast this morning."

Callen felt one of Sam's lectures coming on. (Probably pulled from a procedure manual that he had penned himself; color-coded tabs and all.) Callen scowled, stuck the orange sucker back in his mouth and turned to face the passenger's window.

"G, you've been doing this long enough to know you need to eat a healthy meal before a stakeout." _Here it comes._ "And besides, how long do you expect to survive on a diet consisting of mostly beer and doughnuts? You don't eat right, you don't sleep, your workouts are sporadic."

Callen glared at his partner out of the corner of his eye. "Really? You're going to go there again? I'm healthy enough to keep up with you." Callen flinched, immediately regretting his last statement. He had just practically challenged his huge, muscular partner who was possibly the fittest man in America. _Not good._

Sam chuckled. "You… keep up with me?" The chuckling came harder now. "I'll tell you what. Here's a little challenge while we sit here. You get to ask me anything about my past. If I refuse to answer, or don't answer fully, I buy you steak dinner, every Friday night for a month. Then I ask you a question. If I'm not satisfied with your answer, you work out with me every day for a month."

The smaller agent continued peering toward the block they had under surveillance. "I don't know, Sam. There are some things I don't like to think about, much less talk about." He paused to bring the binoculars up to his eyes, taking a closer look at a group of men who were crossing the street. He lowered the binoculars and tried to ignore his partner staring at the back of his head.

Sensing his friend's resistance, Sam let out a snort. "Chicken."

Callen shifted in his seat, sat up a little taller and raised the bucket seat to an upright position.

Noting the sudden change in the senior agent's posture, Sam had to fight back a smile. "Look at it this way G, it'll make the time pass faster."

Callen could think of a lot of things he'd like to do to pass the time while on a marathon stakeout; answering personal questions about his past was not one of them. "Alright," he finally said. "But it's steak for two months. And I go first."

"Deal."

Callen hesitated, bit down on his lower lip, and then faced his opponent. Sam was sure he saw a hint of regret in his partner's eyes just before he spoke. "Okay, Sam. When you were young… did you ever get into any kind of trouble?"

"You mean did I do anything illegal?"

Callen nodded, almost apologetically.

Sam peered down at the side mirror and ran his hand over the top of his head. "I was part of a gang when I was a teenager. It wasn't so much that I went out looking for a gang to join, trying to belong or anything like that. Where I grew up… it was a matter of survival. Or at least that's what it felt like at the time."

Callen lowered his head, not quite comfortable with the vulnerability he had triggered by his question.

Sam continued. "Where I lived, you were either the aggressor or you were a victim. I did some things I'm not proud of but I was never arrested. Got out when I was seventeen."

Callen studied his partner out of the corner of his eye for a moment. "What made you get out?"

"My younger brother was killed in a drive by. He was just twelve." Sam took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It was my gang. Competition had moved in and they were flexing their muscles – marking their territory. My little brother was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Callen turned and stared at the building beside him, trying to blink away the moisture in his eyes before his teammate could notice. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't know."

"Well, now you do… I had a mentor. His name was Donny Stanton. He was part of the Big Brothers organization. All I could think about was avenging my brother's death. But Donny didn't give up on me. He convinced me that I had a purpose in life and that my purpose would never be fulfilled if I didn't pull myself out of that pit I had fallen in to. I relocated, eventually joined the Navy, and you pretty much know the rest."

There was a long pause while Callen processed what he had just heard.

Sam then turned his attention to Callen. "Okay, G. My turn."

Callen squirmed.

Their little challenge was suddenly interrupted by the sound of Kensi's voice in their earwigs. _"Callen?_ _Do I have your permission to kill Deeks?"_

Callen touched his earpiece. "Kenz. You'll have to run that by Hetty. I don't have the authority."

"_Then I'm calling Hetty."_

"Deeks. What did you do this time?" Callen asked.

"_Nothing!"_ the young detective replied, his voice an octave too high.

The female agent proceeded to plead her case. _"He's driving me crazy! He has practically ripped my car apart looking_ _for something to eat!"_ Sam and Callen looked at each other and smiled. _"He swears I have a package of Peanut Butter Cups somewhere in here."_

"_I know she does,"_ Deeks piped up. _"I can smell them. She always hides them from me just to torture me. She knows I'm starving to death."_

Callen's eyes twinkled with mischief and his smile broadened. "Kensi. Sam has suckers. Want to trade partners?"

"_Would you really? I'd be forever in your debt."_

Callen looked at Sam with his signature crooked smirk.

"Oh, no!" Sam barked. "That is not happening." Then he glared dangerously at G and spoke where only the two of them could hear. "Don't think you're getting out of this that easily."

The senior agent's smirk was now replaced with a frown.

Kensi huffed into their earpieces. _"Guys. Are we even sure we're watching the right block?"_

"_Kensi has a point,"_ Deeks agreed. _"This just seems too public for a weapons deal."_

Callen did not respond. Sam guessed he was either sulking or desperately trying to come up with another plan for escaping the challenge question awaiting him.

The corners of Sam's lips twitched a few times before he addressed his younger coworkers. "Our Intel says Anderson's meeting someone in this area today. Just hang on you two. And try not to kill each other. We don't have time to call in for your replacements."

"_Hang on how much longer?"_ Deeks whined. _"Cause I think I have to pee."_

"_Deeks!"_ Kensi yelled, causing both Callen and Sam to jump, grabbing their now throbbing ears.

It was apparent that the communication between the two vehicles was halted for the time being. Callen sat silently, hoping Sam would drop the whole question thing. He cautiously turned his eyes toward the driver's side of the car. Sam looked like a tiger ready to pounce.

The big agent rubbed his hands together and gave his partner an eager, 'now let's get back to business' look.

Callen's shoulders sagged a little, he slumped deeper into his seat, and then let out a slow, resigned breath. "Ask away."

"Okay, G. How did you get that scar on your chin?"

"What?" Callen brought his palm to his lower jaw. "How do you even see that?"

"G. I've seen you clean shaven. And even with your beard, you have certain expressions… Well, it just shows sometimes." Several seconds passed. "You've got three minutes."

Callen shrugged. "I don't know. I fell when I was a kid," was his simple response, an obvious attempt to downplay the incident.

Not convinced, Sam quirked an eyebrow. "Two minutes and forty seven seconds."

Still nothing.

"_Callen! Sam!"_ Kensi's voice suddenly broke the silence. _"I think Anderson just passed our car. Tan pants. Dark green shirt. Carrying a briefcase."_

Callen snapped to high alert. "Did you get a photo?"

"_Sending it to Eric now. Wait… There are four guys right behind him. I think they're with him."_

Sam and Callen simultaneously exited the car. Callen leaned back against the _Challenger_, crossing one foot over the other. Then he casually reached up and touched his earwig. "Where are they Kenz? We don't have eyes on them yet."

"_They stopped. I think they're making sure they aren't being followed."_

"_Whoa!"_ Deeks exclaimed. _"Two of these guys are ginormous! Bigger than Sam. I reeeally, reeeally hope_ _these aren't our bad guys."_

Callen's tone was now more urgent. "Eric? Talk to me."

"_Working on it."_

"_Callen, they're headed your way,"_ Kensi reported. _"And… you're not going to believe who just showed up. Looks like Victor Westerman may be our supplier. But where are the weapons?... Callen. They all stopped in front of the third building down. Thirty-One-Seventeen… No… They're going inside." _

"Yeah. I see them now," Callen said. "Eric?"

"_Callen,"_ the computer tech responded. _"Positive ID on Anderson. Nothing on the others yet."_

Nell's voice cut in. _"Guys. The address Kensi gave is an old office building. It was purchased seven months ago by Westco Enterprises, one of Victor Westerman's questionable companies. It's been under renovation but looks like the construction was recently halted. The contractors are tied up in some legal issues over building codes and worker safety. The good news is that there shouldn't be anyone else in the building."_

"Westerman didn't bring any muscle with him. Probably has the weapons stored somewhere else," Callen speculated. "Eric. Building schematics?"

"_Yeah. But they're prior to renovation. We have no way of knowing what it looks like now. I __can__ tell you that it has five stories, and four entrances: front, east side, and two in back. I've pulled up the best camera angle we have and it looks like the back entrances are blocked with a couple of industrial-size dumpsters."_

Callen pushed away from the side of the car and began making quick strides toward the office building. "Kensi. You and Deeks take the side door. Sam and I will take the front. Eric, tell Hetty we need backup on standby."

"_Will do. Oh… and uh… Hetty said to remind you that we need to try to bring these guys in alive. She's hoping to use them to catch the bigger fish." _Even with the element of surprise on their side, Hetty's elite team of four was outnumbered. And keeping these scumbags alive was not going to make this any easier.

Kensi and Deeks made it to the side entrance. Kensi removed the tiny pack of tools from her front pocket and began working on the lock. It took less than thirty seconds and she gently turned the door knob. With their weapons now in hand, the pair stood on each side of the doorframe, and slowly pushed open the solid steel door. After quietly stepping inside, Kensi touched her ear. _"We're in," _she whispered. Then, like a well-rehearsed dance, she and her partner began a systematic, room-to-room search.

With his SIG drawn, Sam peered through a hole in the brown paper that covered the windows of the front doors. Callen crouched down, selected the right pick from his leather pouch, and began working free the lock. After that old familiar click, he pocketed his pick set, reached behind him, and slid his weapon from his waist holster. On Sam's signal, they slipped inside and joined in the search.

Just as the team finished clearing the front rooms, Eric notified them that backup was on the way. _"Callen. LAPD is sending four uniforms. They'll be there in five. They'll be posted at both exits."_

Kensi was the first to hear voices coming from a back room. She stopped, held up her index finger, and the other three team members froze in place. After a brief pause, she pointed to the last room on the left.

The team silently moved into position. When they received the message from Eric that the officers had arrived and were in place, Sam counted to three, kicked in the door, the 'federal agents' announcement was shouted, and that's when it all broke loose.

One of the men that had come with Anderson drew his gun. Sam shot him in the shoulder. The man dropped his weapon and fell to the ground. Sam kicked the gun away. Deeks wrestled one of the bad guys to the floor. While Kensi was busy fighting it out with Anderson, one of the musclemen aimed his gun at her and was fatally shot by Callen. Now, with one injured and one dead, the team was evenly matched – except for the fact that the remaining 'ginormous' guy was still in the mix. He had bolted and was on his way up the stairs with Callen hot on his trail.

Westerman grabbed the briefcase, ran from the room and began scurrying up the staircase. Sam followed, dodging a few bullets meant for him. On his way up, Sam caught a glimpse of a pistol on one of the steps; not his partner's government issued SIG so the gigantic guy G was after must have dropped it. _That should help._

Deeks had succeeded in subduing his suspect and was in the process of cuffing him when he witnessed his partner take a pretty hard blow to her stomach. That's all it took for the slender female agent to step it up a notch. Anderson never saw the round kick coming that connected with the side of his head, and he now lay in a stupor while having his wrists, rather roughly, zip-tied behind him.

Kensi got to her feet and leaned over, her hands resting on her thighs, trying to catch her breath.

Deeks peered down at Anderson and shook his head in mock pity. "That'll teach you to mess with my partner."

Kensi looked up at the blonde detective and smiled.

Sam soon returned to the first floor with the briefcase and a handcuffed, and a somewhat disheveled, Westerman. "Here's another one for your collection," Sam said, shoving the suspect toward Deeks and handing the briefcase to Kensi. Then he quickly surveyed the scene. "Get these guys out of here. See if LAPD will assist with transportation." There was a sudden crash from the story above them. "This one needs an ambulance," he said, tilting his head toward the guy with the gunshot wound to the shoulder. After another loud crash from the second floor, Sam looked up at the ceiling. "I gotta go help G. He's up there with _Godzilla_." Sam took off toward the stairs, leaving Kensi and Deeks in charge of 'clean up.'

Sam reached the second floor just in time to see Callen being slammed against the wall, and the weapon he was holding in his left hand come flying across the room. Sam quickly concluded that his partner must have injured his dominant hand.

The bad guy spotted Sam and ran to the far end of the room to where the flooring structure was not complete. He jumped down through the opening in the floor, to the scaffold a few feet below.

Callen followed, disappearing through the opening, as well.

Sam hurried over and peered down at his partner who was now climbing down the scaffolding, struggling much more than he should be. Sam could not determine the extent of his partner's injuries from this distance, but he was not in good shape.

Hoping to get to the ground floor before the bad guy could inflict any more damage, Sam jumped to the platform of the scaffolding and then dropped to the solid floor below. He could not believe how quickly things had turned from bad to worse.

Callen was lying on the cement floor, flat on his back, with the bad guy's huge foot firmly planted on his chest. Callen's eyes were fearful, looking up at the large pipe that was about to be used to smash into his head.

Sam aimed his gun. _Bang! Bang! Bang!_

In the blink of an eye, the ex-Navy SEAL had met his target.

Callen lie frozen, eyes still trained on the enormous form above him, watching the man who was now clutching his chest.

The man swayed and stepped off of Callen's torso. Then he stumbled back, his massive body colliding with a beam, and he fell to the floor with a thud.

Before the agents had time to collect their thoughts, there was a loud creak above them. It was immediately followed by a slow groan of shifting metal. Then came the deafening sound of steel, sheetrock, wood, and glass crashing down on top of them. Suddenly, it felt like all of the air was sucked from the room and everything went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

The 'Tie' that Binds – Chapter 2

The next thing Sam knew, he was on his knees, crouched over, arms protectively crossed over the top of his head. It took him a couple of minutes to process what had just happened; it seemed surreal.

The dust started to settle, not only making it easier to breathe, but now light from the upper story windows was beginning to break through.

_G!_ Sam knew that if he moved from his location, he risked causing another cave-in. But he needed to find his partner. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing his heart to stop pounding so fast and so hard.

"_Callen? Sam?"_ Kensi's voice sounded in Sam's earpiece.

"Yeah."

"_Are you guys okay?"_

"I'm good. Don't know about G. I'm about to look for him."

"_Suspect?"_

"He's dead. Kensi, did everyone make it out?"

"_Working on it. This side of the building is still intact, though."_

"Good. Tell Eric we need medics on the scene. I don't know G's condition."

"_Eric's already called for help, Sam."_

With most of the dust now dissipated, there was enough light filtering in for Sam to safely begin his search. He slowly made his way to where he thought he had last seen his friend, careful not disturb any remaining support structure. When he neared the other side of the room, he could hear Callen's quick, strained breathing.

Sam removed a large piece of sheetrock that was leaning against a metal post. There lay Callen, flat on his back, his blue eyes blinking up owlishly.

"Sam?" Callen's voice was weak and raspy. "What happened?"

"This section of the building caved in."

"Kensi? Deeks?"

Sam knelt down beside his partner. "They're alright."

Callen began scanning Sam for injuries and his eyes narrowed when he reached his right shoulder.

Sam looked down to find a fairly large cut in his upper arm. "G. It's alright. Just needs a few stitches. I can't even feel it. How 'bout you? Where are you hurt?"

Callen closed his eyes. "I'm good… Did anyone put eyes on the weapons?"

"There wasn't time to search the upper floors. And I doubt Westerman is down there spilling his dirty little secrets. So we still don't know where he has them stored."

Callen squeezed his eyes shut for several seconds, swiped his lips with his tongue, and then continued. "We need to secure the building… until we know for sure they're not here."

Sam touched his earpiece. "Kensi."

"_Sam," _she responded quickly. _"Did you find Callen?"_

"Yeah. He's a little banged up. But looks like he'll be okay."

"_Thank God."_

"Kensi. Tell Hetty that we're going to need the building secured until a team can do a thorough search. Callen isn't convinced the weapons are here but we can't take a chance on them getting into the wrong hands. Also, let the search team know they should find a pistol, belonging to one of our suspects, on the stairs. Don't want some little kid prowling around later and finding it."

"_I'll tell Hetty."_

Callen signaled his partner by pointing at himself.

"Oh," Sam added. "And tell them that one of our agents lost his service weapon somewhere in this mess."

"_Callen's SIG?"_

"Yeah. Last saw it on the second floor, but no telling where it is now."

"_Okay. Hang in there guys. The fire department and paramedics are on their way."_

"Thanks."

Callen suddenly sucked in a quick breath and grimaced.

Sam shifted to the side a few inches, allowing more light to reach his partner's body.

Callen was covered with slivers of glass. His forearms and hands were smeared with blood and his blue button-up shirt was bloody and torn and missing the first few buttons. His right arm was draped across his stomach. He had scrapes and cuts on his face and a gash above his right eyebrow. It was hard to tell which injuries were sustained from the building collapse and which ones were from the beating he'd endured earlier. Pain once again flashed across his face.

"Talk to me, G. Where do you hurt?"

Callen turned his head, avoiding his partner's gaze.

"Alright," Sam warned. "You know you're headed to the hospital when they get us out of here. You could save yourself a lot of poking and prodding from the doctors if you'd go ahead and tell me."

_The big guy just __had__ to mention the hospital._ With his head still turned to the side, Callen frowned, looking more like a pouting child than a highly-trained government agent.

It was all Sam could do to keep from smiling. "Did you hit your head?" Sam asked.

Callen shook his head.

"Anything broken?"

Callen glanced up at Sam and then looked away.

"Your right hand?"

No response.

"Arm?"

Callen nodded.

Sam noted that the knuckles on Callen's left hand were raw and bloody as opposed to the skin on the back of his right hand that was virtually untouched. He concluded that Callen must have sustained the broken arm early in the fight.

Sam continued with his inquiry into his partner's injuries. "Do you have some broken ribs?"

Callen nodded in response.

"Anything else besides generally feeling like you've been used for a punching bag?"

Callen looked back at Sam and shook his head.

"Now. See? Was that so hard?" But in reality, Sam knew that it was that hard. G Callen hated being made over more than anyone he had ever known.

The computer tech cut in for an update. _"Sam?"_

"Yeah, Eric."

"_Fire department and EMS are on the scene. They're trying to get hold of the contractor so they can determine the safest way to get you two out. Sam, Hetty wants to know Callen's status."_

Just when Sam was about to answer, Callen grimaced and brought his left hand up behind his head. Bringing his hand down, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the fresh blood on his palm.

"Yeah, Eric," Sam responded. "Tell Hetty it looks like he's going to need to be patched up. But he's conscious and alert and as stubborn as ever."

Callen was wiping his hand on the front of his shirt when Sam finished his conversation with Eric.

"G," Sam said gruffly and Callen's eyes met his. "I thought you said you didn't hit your head."

Callen's eyebrows knitted together. "I didn't."

Sam firmly grasped Callen's forearm and pulled it up so that the bloody palm was in front of G's face. "Really? What caused this, then?" he asked, squeezing his partner's arm just a little tighter.

Callen's already strained breathing came a little faster. "The pipe," he replied softly while still looking up at Sam.

"The pipe the suspect was holding when I shot him?" Sam asked.

Callen nodded once.

"So he had already wacked you in the head before I got down here?"

Callen just stared up at Sam.

Then it occurred to Sam that this was why G was flat on his back so quickly after climbing down the scaffold; the bad guy had slugged him in the back of the head. Sam shook his head and released his grip of his partner's forearm. "Great. Another head injury," he grumbled.

Callen set his jaw. "I don't have a concussion," he replied, and then immediately winced from a sudden stabbing pain in his back.

Sam had known G long enough to recognize that he was attempting to mask the intense pain he was experiencing. The ex-SEAL suspected it would be some time before rescuers would reach them and he felt somewhat helpless that he had no supplies or medicines to help alleviate his partner's discomfort. The best he could do was to keep the dialog and banter going between them until help arrived; keeping Callen focused, in case he was, in fact, suffering from head trauma and, hopefully, offering a distraction from the pain.

Sam's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of Eric's voice in his earpiece. _"Sam. They found the contractor. He was on a job just a few miles away. He's going to drop by his office and pick up the blueprints and then head your way. He said it would speed things up if you could give us any details that would help him pinpoint your location."_

Sam rose to his feet. "Yeah, we're on the first floor, west side, back room." When Sam stepped away to survey the area, he noticed Callen's body tense. Then G weakly attempted to shift his weight. "Okay, Eric," Sam continued. "We are about sixty feet from the back and looks like twelve feet or so from the west wall."

"_That's good, Sam. I'll pass that along. How are you guys holding up?"_

Sam looked over to find his partner in obvious discomfort and trying to reposition himself. "Just need to get G out of here," Sam said quietly.

"_I know Sam. We're working on it. I'll keep you updated."_

By the time Sam had resumed his kneeling position at his partner's left side, Callen had begun to squirm even more, causing the wound on his forehead to bleed.

"Stop moving around," Sam warned.

Callen tried to push himself up using his left forearm. Bits of glass crunched under the pressure of his arm. He moaned softly and squeezed his eyes shut. "I need to sit up."

"No. What you need to do is be still."

Callen hissed and then bent one leg, once again attempting to change positions. "I think I'm laying on something."

"G. You were already on your back when the building collapsed. What would you be laying on?"

"Don't know," he grunted out. "I just need to get up." He was beginning to sound more desperate.

Sam laid his hand on his partner's shoulder. "Okay, buddy. Relax. I'll help you roll onto your side… Right or left?"

Callen's eye darted around the room and his breathing became more labored as he considered his options. With painful ribs on both sides, it was going to be the lesser of two evils. "Left… I think," he finally whispered.

"Alright. Give me just a minute." Not wanting to roll the injured agent over onto broken glass, Sam picked up a small section of sheetrock and used it to rake the debris away from Callen's body. He stepped over and squatted down at G's right side. Then he positioned his hands on Callen's right shoulder and hip. "You ready?"

Callen reached across and used his left arm to cradle his injured extremity against his , and then gave a quick nod. He was gently rolled to his left side so that he was now facing away from Sam. Callen held his breath but was unable to suppress a moan caused by the pain in his ribs.

"G. How did you not feel this until now?" Sam picked up a sharp piece of metal that had apparently been beneath his partner since he had been knocked to the floor with the pipe. Sam noted blood on the back of Callen's shirt where the jagged edges of the metal had cut through the fabric. "This your shirt?"

"Hetty's," Callen said through gritted teeth.

"I bet half your salary goes to replacing Hetty's wardrobe," Sam said, lifting the hem of Callen's shirt to examine the wound on his back. The metal had punctured the skin about two inches below his right shoulder blade, right next to one of the bullet wound scars. Sam shook his head and sighed. "You up on your tetanus?"

"Yeah," Callen answered, his breathing becoming a little more ragged. "Hetty gave me all my boosters… before I joined you in Yemen."

"You mean she waited until I was gone? I hate I missed that."

"That was sort of the idea… You get way too much enjoyment… out of watching me get stuck with needles."

"Boosters. That's what… six, seven shots?"

"Eight."

"Did Hetty promise you a sucker and use Dora the Explorer band-aides?" Sam asked, lowering the back of Callen's shirt.

"See?... You're making light of my misery now… And you know the Dora band-aides... are for Deeks." Callen held his breath a few seconds, fighting off another wave of pain, then added, "Mine are Batman."

Sam did a quick scan for any other injuries while he had Callen on his side. He placed his palm on the back of his partner's head. Running his thumb through the short cropped hair, he could feel the lump that had formed from the lick to the head. Thankfully, the blood had begun to clump around the wound so the laceration was apparently not too deep.

Then without warning, Sam reached around the front of Callen, unbuckled his belt, and began slipping the belt from the belt loops of his jeans.

Callen turned his head to the side, attempting to peer at his partner over his shoulder. "Shouldn't you at least take me out for a nice dinner first?"

"Shut-up," Sam barked, now removing the cell phone and ID from G's back pockets, and the watch from his wrist. "Do you want me to let the hospital lose your belt and holster like last time?"

"Last time it was my boots and holster… Time before was my belt and pants."

"My point exactly… Keys?"

Callen's flinched and drew in a quick breath.

"G?"

"Office," he whispered. "In my locker."

"You still have your backup weapon?"

Callen swallowed hard. "Yeah."

"Okay, here we go," Sam said and then rolled his friend onto his back.

The pain from being moved was intense and Callen could not help but whimper. Now suddenly feeling woozy, Callen closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing.

Sam had moved down to Callen's feet and had begun removing his boots when he noticed his partner's eyes were closed. Callen was much paler than before and now breathing in tiny, quick puffs.

"G. You with me?" Callen did not respond so Sam patted the side of his leg and spoke more loudly this time. "Talk to me, G!"

"I'm awake," he responded softly.

"You don't look awake."

"I'm meditating," Callen said without opening his eyes.

"Meditating? Pffft. On what? On how to not faint like a little girl in front of your partner?"

"Something like that."

"Well, you need to stop meditating so I know you're not slipping off into a coma or something."

Callen forced his heavy eyelids open and glared at Sam the best he could. "I told you..."

"I know. I know. You don't have a concussion." Sam just shook his head and proceeded with unstrapping his partner's ankle holster. He placed all of the personal items he had collected inside Callen's boots and then moved to Callen's side where he crouched down next to him.

Callen's torn shirt was now gaping open in the front. Sam spotted a line of bruising that was beginning to develop. He pulled the shirt open, exposing a pinkish-blue pattern on Callen's chest, obviously made by the extreme pressure of a very large shoe.

Callen looked at his partner with narrowed eyes and then reached up with his trembling left hand, making a feeble attempt to close the damaged shirt. It had only been about forty minutes since the building had collapsed and Sam suspected that the signs of Callen's beating would be even more evident in just a few hours; in fact, he guessed his friend would be practically covered with black and blue markings by the next morning.

Sam watched Callen for a minute and was relieved to see that he was beginning to relax and that his breathing, even though too quick and shallow, was now more even. This was a sign that either the pain had let up slightly or that his partner was simply worn out.

Sam had just taken a seat on the ground by Callen when Kensi spoke in his earpiece.

"_Sam."_

"Tell me something good, Kensi."

"_The contractor says there's a door on the west side, close to where you are. It's been sealed off for years. They're bringing in some equipment to remove the brick. It's going to get noisy in just a little while. But they think they should have you out in less than an hour."_

"Thanks, Kensi."

"_Sam, can Callen hear me? Can I talk to him?"_

Sam reached down, cupped Callen's chin with his palm, and pushed his head to the side.

Callen furrowed his brow, confused as to why his partner was examining the side of his head.

"He can't hear you, Kensi. Earwig must have gotten knocked out… Kenz… he's gonna be alright. We'll see you soon."

Releasing his grasp of Callen's jaw, Sam caught a glimpse of the scar. "Oooh, yeeaah." He lightly ran his index finger along his partner's chin. "You never answered."

Callen just turned his head away.

"I'm gonna enjoy being your personal trainer for a month, G. Those six mile runs will be rough with those sore ribs. Not to mention getting up at five a.m. and those daily trips to the gym."

"Alright," Callen said, now reverting back to his pouting face. After a moment, Callen's eyes narrowed and he instinctively rubbed his jawline with a shaky hand, his thoughts being swept back in time. "It was the night Jason, my foster brother, died," he said softly. "Our foster dad was drunk… When he was sober, he wasn't so bad. But when he drank… he was paranoid and violent. He thought I'd taken some money off of his nightstand. He'd given it to our foster mom to buy cigarettes and just didn't remember. He started slapping me around. I was sort of small for my age so they… he would usually come after me first. Easy target I guess."

Sam could see tears forming in his partner's eyes. Part of him wanted to tell Callen it was okay to stop.

After a short pause, Callen continued. "He kept hitting me, trying to make me say I'd taken the twenty four dollars. Finally, he got so angry he shoved me down the basement stairs. I hit my chin on one of the steps." Callen closed his eyes. He drew in a shaky breath that caused a sudden sharp pain in his ribs and he grimaced. "I guess Jason was afraid he wouldn't stop because when our foster dad started down the stairs to get me, Jason said he took the money." Callen shook his head and whispered, "I should have just said I did it."

Sam placed his palm on Callen's shoulder but did not speak.

In fact, neither man spoke the remainder of the time while they waited to be extracted from the rubble. They silently reflected on what the other had shared. Although it was not his intention when proposing the challenge, Sam knew that the bonds of their partnership had been strengthened.

An hour later, Callen had been placed on a gurney and was ready to be loaded into the ambulance for his much dreaded trip to the hospital.

Sam handed Callen's belongings off to Kensi. He was about to be led away to have his shoulder wound tended to when Callen reached up and weakly grasped his wrist. Sam bent down closer to his battered partner.

"The challenge," Callen whispered. "… A tie?"

Sam sighed. "Yeah," he affirmed with a nod. "A tie."

Now suddenly overcome with exhaustion, Callen smiled tiredly and closed his eyes.

_The End_


End file.
